King Series Box Set

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King Series Box Set Page 6

by Kandle, Tawdra


  “Of course I am. My dad told me all about everything that lives down here. He said not to go near natural bodies of water, and I’d have to walk past a lake on my way to school.”

  Michael shook his head, looking at me sideways in mock pity. “Sad. Do you really think there’s gators just roaming the streets?”

  “There might be,” I replied darkly. “Who knows?”

  He was still chuckling as we turned into the parking lot and found a spot. We climbed out of the car, Michael waiting as I slung my backpack over my shoulder.

  “So, are we on for tomorrow afternoon?” he asked. I could tell he was trying to keep his tone casual.

  “Yes! My parents said it was okay, as long as I was home by dinner and…” I altered my voice to mimic a parental tone, “be very careful and smart.”

  Michael shot me a quizzical glance. “What does that mean?”

  “It means my parents don’t want anyone to find out about what I—what I can do.” I kept my voice down. There weren’t many people near us, but I’d been well schooled in caution.

  “It’s a secret, then?”

  We had reached Michael’s locker, and we stopped there while he swapped books. I raised my eyebrows.

  “Well, yes. No one knows. Just my parents and me… and now you. And they can’t know that you know, or they will really freak out, and probably send me away to military school.”

  Michael slammed his locker shut. “Seriously?”

  I shrugged. “No, it wouldn’t be military school. Probably we’d just move out of state and they’d home school me for the rest of my life.”

  “No, I mean, no one else knows? And they’d be mad if they knew I knew?”

  I shuddered. “Mad doesn’t begin to cover it. Mostly they’d be frightened, I think. Their worst fear is that someone finds out about me and then… I don’t know, they have all kinds of dark scenarios in mind.”

  “Hmm.” We moved down the walkway toward my locker, and it was my turn to root through my books. Michael leaned against the wall, and I could feel his eyes on me before he spoke again. “So do you think you can keep yourself dry and out of trouble this morning?”

  I rolled my eyes. “That doesn’t seem to be asking too much, does it? Sometimes I think I’m missing some essential element I need to be part of things. I’m always the invisible girl… unless I’m in Chemistry here, then I’m the girl with the target on her.”

  “I don’t think it’s you. We get a certain amount of transient kids in King… you know, they move here for a year, then they’re gone. I guess it does take a while before people really open up.” He shrugged. “Like I said the other day, I’ve been in this area, at King schools, all my life. So I don’t know for sure.”

  “Small towns are always harder to break into,” I agreed. “I thought Florida would be different, because there are always people moving in and out, and all the tourists, too.”

  “King is a little bit of an oddity, though,” Michael remarked. “There are a few old Florida families, and sometimes they act like they’re royalty. Not all of them, but there are some odd ones.”

  “King has been here a long time?” I questioned as I closed my locker.

  “Haven’t you heard the history of this town?” Michael asked. “It’s kind of cool, I guess, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

  “What sort of thing?”

  “Oh, you know, history, magic, legends, all that paranormal stuff.”

  My spine tingled. “Some people would say I am very into paranormal stuff,” I murmured softly, just for Michael’s ears.

  He smiled gently. “Not like this. Gravis King was a carnie. Actually, he owned a big carnival, one of the largest in the south in the late nineteenth century. He retired down here, bought land, and brought his whole carnie family down to live here, established this town. Said they all needed a place to make a fresh start.

  “Lots of people who still live in town can trace their family trees back to King’s carnies. If you go downtown and walk around, you’ll see shops with some of the carnie names up there. People trying to play on their heritage, I guess. Makes a good draw for tourists, and we get busloads every year. Whatever works.” He shrugged.

  “That’s very interesting,” I mused. “Is yours one of the families?”

  “No way!” he laughed. “My parents settled here as a compromise. My dad came from the panhandle, my mom came from south Florida, so they agreed to live here as a half-way point. And they’re not much on the mystical elements people in town play up. My mom says it gives her the creeps. So we don’t live in the town, we live just outside, like I told you.”

  The first bell rang, and I looked up, startled. I had been totally absorbed in our conversation.

  “Gotta run,” Michael sighed, regretfully. “See you at lunch. Stay dry!”

  It was hard to believe it was only my third day at King High School. I managed to keep it relatively uneventful. In Chemistry, I slid into my assigned seat as quietly as I could, but I needn’t have bothered. Liza, Casey and Nell were all in full ignoring mode, not even bothering to acknowledge my presence. I was perfectly okay with that. I took notes on Ms. Lacusta’s lecture and kept my eyes on my notebook.

  When the bell rang, Ms. Lacusta called me to her desk and handed me several papers stapled together.

  “These are the notes from the lab you missed,” she explained. “And there is a summary worksheet on the back page. If you complete it tonight, I will make sure you receive full credit for the lab you missed.” Her eyes were very perceptive as she gazed at me. “I don’t believe that you were at fault yesterday. I should have kept a closer eye on the situation, especially considering the… personalities involved.”

  I wasn’t sure what I should say at this point, so I just nodded and murmured my thanks. As I turned to go, Ms. Lacusta said softly, “Tasmyn… tread carefully. And please, do feel free to let me know if there is anything I can do to help you feel more settled and at home here. I think I could be very helpful to you.”

  Her words were kind enough, but quite suddenly, I sensed a very different feeling pulsing from her mind. It swirled around me, almost like a tangible mist, and it was not pleasant. Rather, it was cunning and nearly—I struggled for the word—painful? No, not quite. Dangerous, that was a more accurate description. Like a beautiful snake that might lull its victim into admiration before it struck with deadly venom.

  I took an involuntary step back from the desk and nearly stumbled. I mumbled another incoherent word of thanks and fled the room as quickly as I could. I spent most of Speech and Debate trying to shake off the sense of foreboding Ms. Lacusta had triggered in me.

  In English, I returned Amber’s notebook to her with another word of thanks. Again, she didn’t respond to my efforts to start a conversation; she just took the notebook back with a nod and never even met my eyes. I stifled a sigh, wondering what I could have possibly done to offend yet another girl by my third day of school.

  The rest of the morning passed quickly, and I was so glad to go to lunch that I felt like skipping the whole way. Michael was waiting for me in the same spot outside the door, and his smile upon sighting me lit his entire face.

  The idea that I was the reason for that incredible smile was intoxicating. I really couldn’t understand why he sought me out, why he wanted to be with me, but I wasn’t going to press my luck and ask too many questions, lest he figure out that I wasn’t worth the effort. I was surprised and not a little scared to realize that Michael Sawyer was already so important to me.

  As he had the day before, Michael opened the door and followed me inside. But today, he was taking a personal interest in my lunch. He added a plate of fries to my tray (which held a cup of soup and a salad) and made me take two cookies instead of just one. When I protested, he just shook his head and moved me forward.

  “You cannot make it through an afternoon on just rabbit food and soup,” he told me firmly. “Besides, I’ll help you eat them.”

&nb
sp; Everyone at our lunch table greeted me warmly as we sat down. I tried to keep up with the conversation that flew around us… If I kept my concentration on just one person at a time, I was able to tune out most of the thoughts. Fortunately, the few I did pick up were positive and friendly.

  Michael made sure that I kept eating throughout the talk. He sat next to me today instead of across the table, and he angled his body so that I felt protected and safe, even as he encouraged me to talk to the others. I realized that he was giving me another gift: he was sharing his friends with me.

  It was toward the end of lunch that Anne mentioned Nell Massler’s name. She rolled her eyes as she told us that Nell had joined the Harvest Moon Dance Committee. Across the table, Brea sighed in a show of empathy.

  “I just don’t get it. She’s very popular, but she is so intense. We were having a meeting, and she gets all wrapped up about the dumbest things. I can’t believe how many people are listening to her. Drives me crazy!”

  I was quiet. I had just met these girls, and I didn’t want to chime in on something negative.

  Michael moved slightly closer to me and leaned to whisper in my ear. “Why don’t we beat the rush and go to our lockers now, if you’re finished eating?” He glanced down at my tray and sighed. “You didn’t finish your cookie.”

  “I’m full,” I answered. “I’m ready to go.”

  Once out in the hallway, Michael walked alongside me in silence. “I thought maybe the Nell talk was making you uncomfortable.”

  I glanced at him sideways. “Are you sure you aren’t the mind reader here?”

  He looked at me in surprise. “Pretty sure. I just try to be observant.” We stopped at his locker first, and as he twirled the combination, he said quietly, “You talk about it so casually. But I thought—what you can do was a big secret.”

  “It is. I mean, it always has been. I don’t—” I struggled to put what I was feeling into words. “I’ve never been able to say those casual things to anyone but my parents. I guess it’s just really freeing. I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” Michael closed the locker. “I was just surprised.” He stood looking down at me so intently that I flushed and dropped my eyes. “There were some times at lunch that you seemed to be listening really hard. You were just looking at Anne and Brea—I don’t know, like you were concentrating intensely on what they were saying.” He hesitated, and I sensed that he didn’t want to say anything I might take the wrong way. “Were you… were you listening to them? You know, to more than what they were saying out loud?”

  My face grew even warmer. “No! I don’t do that, not on purpose. Sometimes things slip in…” I was getting upset as I tried to explain. “What I was concentrating on so carefully was not listening. I work very hard to keep up the walls that block other people’s thoughts.”

  Michael closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. “I didn’t mean that to sound—accusing. I was just wondering. I’ve been worrying about what you might be reading in my mind, that you might not like it. I didn’t even think that you might be trying not to know.”

  His admission took my breath away. He was worried about what I would think? That was insane. I was the freak, the one who was made wrong. And he thought I would read his mind and not like it?

  I took a steadying breath. “I haven’t heard anything from your mind since yesterday in the car. And I wasn’t trying then. It happens. I try to keep it from happening, but it does.”

  Michael pushed off from the wall. “Tasmyn, I promise you, I am not mad at you. I wouldn’t have been angry if you had been reading my mind or the girls’ minds. I just didn’t know.” He put his finger under my chin to lift my face. “Please don’t be upset,” he murmured.

  My eyes were caught in his, and I couldn’t look away. I could feel his warm finger just grazing my face. My wall slipped a little, but I could only interpret earnest, intense feelings from him—no specific thoughts. And then just for a split second, I saw my own face, looking up at him, the way he was seeing me, and I was completely blown away. I knew it was my face; I recognized the long brown hair and saw my own hazel eyes, but it didn’t look like the image I saw in the mirror each morning. It was beautiful.

  The bell rang and the walkway filled with people. We were no longer alone, but Michael stood still. I was the first one to move.

  “We have to go to class,” I said, although I had no idea how my voice was working.

  “I know.” He breathed deeply and ran his hand over his hair. “I know. This is,” he shook his head, as if to clear it. “Okay, I’ll see you at your locker after school.”

  “I’ll be fast. I don’t want to make you late.”

  “You won’t. See you.” He took off around the corner and I wondered how I was going to move myself to class when my legs were suddenly made of rubber.

  I spent another afternoon zoning through my classes, thinking only about Michael. When the final bell rang, I knew I had to get to my locker fast; Michael had to get to work, and I didn’t want to make him late.

  I ran to my locker, already holding the books I would need to drop off and mentally listing the ones I needed to grab. Michael was there waiting, his eyes focused on the paperback book he held in one hand.

  “Hey—I’m sorry you had to wait, I’m hurrying. She always keeps us in Trig until the last minute.“

  He held up his hand. “I just got here. Take a breath. I wasn’t going to leave without you.”

  I shoved my books into the locker and rooted for one I needed. Glancing back over my shoulder, I inquired, “What are you reading?”

  He held up the book so that I could see the cover. “John Keats. We’re reading him in English and I needed—” he broke off for a minute, not meeting my eyes. “I was kind of preoccupied in class today, and I need to be more familiar with some of these. This kind of stuff doesn’t come as easy for me as Math and Science.”

  I closed the locker. “All set. I love Keats. I wrote my sophomore lit paper on Ode on A Grecian Urn.”

  Michael grimaced. “That makes me feel so much better, thanks.”

  “No problem. You can do the same when I tell you that my Trig teacher was speaking in a foreign tongue today.” We were walking toward the parking lot, and I looked up at him, smiling a little. “At least I think she was. I was a little… preoccupied too.”

  He blew out a breath. “Nice to know I’m not the only one. I was beginning to think that maybe I was.”

  “Was what?”

  Michael didn’t answer me as we headed toward the parking lot and climbed into his car. He remained silent while he started up the car and then turned to me. “What I meant before was that I worry that I’m the only one who gets preoccupied. It’s crazy. It makes no sense. But sometimes…” His voice trailed off again, and he shook his head, looking down. “You probably think I’m insane.”

  “I don’t. Not at all.”

  Michael shifted into reverse and then pulled out onto the road. He kept his eyes on the road even as he prompted me. “But…?”

  “But nothing. This is all so new. I’ve only known you for three days, and like I told you yesterday, I’ve never…” I drew in a deep breath. “I don’t have any experience with boys. At all. I feel totally comfortable when I’m with you, but then when I stop and think about it, the whole situation seems unbelievable. Like I must be crazy.”

  “Well, that’s it then.” Michael shot a quick bright smile at me. “You need to stop thinking. And so do I.”

  “Really?” I cocked an eyebrow at him. “We need to stop thinking?”

  “Yup.” Michael nodded. “Or maybe we need to stop over thinking. When we’re together and talking, I don’t have any doubts that—well, about us. I like you, Tasmyn. And there’s more than that to it… more that we need to talk about. Not today.” He ran a hand through hair and scowled. “I don’t have time before work.”

  “You never did tell me where you work,” I remarked. �
�When we were talking about it yesterday, we kind of got side-tracked.”

  Michael laughed. “Yeah, we did. I work for my parents. They own a nursery and landscaping company, and I work there three days a week and most weekends.”

  I was impressed. “Wow. I don’t know anything about plants. Do you like it?”

  “It’s cool. I like working outside, and my parents are pretty flexible. But I don’t like to take advantage of them.” He pulled up to the curb in front of my house. “So as much as I’d like to stay with you and talk now, I need to just drop you off and get moving.”

  I hopped out of the car. Michael met me at the sidewalk and handed me my backpack. I slung it over one shoulder and turned to look up at him.

  He was looking down at me with such intensity that I couldn’t breathe, and for one moment I was sure he was going to kiss me, right out here in the open. But he only squeezed my arm.

  “See you tomorrow morning,” he whispered. And as he left, I wondered how on earth I was going to make it until then.

  I was up early again the next day. When I opened my eyes, I had a delicious sense of anticipation—remembering that something good was going to happen but not quite grasping what it was.

  “Oh!” I sat straight up in bed. Today was park day, when Michael and I would have an entire three hours of uninterrupted time together without worrying about classes or other people. A wave of pure joy washed over me, and I jumped up onto my feet, turned on my music and dashed into my closet. I looked around for a minute before I ran back out and clicked on the computer to check the day’s weather. What I saw their inspired a little impromptu dance: sunshine, temps in the mid-eighties and virtually no chance of rain. That meant I could definitely wear the sweet little sundress I had been considering.

  Even though I took much more time than usual with my primping, I was ready early. My mother had made pancakes, and I managed to eat one and drink a glass of juice before my stomach refused any more.

  When I saw the Mustang turn onto our street, I called a goodbye to my mother, promising once again that I would be home by dinnertime. And then I was out the door.

 

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